gardening is my zen

I love this time of year. The sunshine, the soft spring breezes, the flowers and sweet smelling soil. Few things in life are as fine as sitting on soft grass in the sunshine, with a good book and a plump kitty cat to keep you company.

This spring I have really started taking gardening seriously, and have invested a lot of my mom's money (ha, sorry mom) into a vegetable garden. Currently I'm growing onions, hot peppers, sweet peppers, brussel sprouts (kind of gross, but my dad wanted them), zucchini, cucumber and tomatoes. The garden has a pretty border of wild purple flowers and mint. My mom keeps telling me the purple flowers are weeds and to yank them all up, but I'm loathe to do so -- purple is, after all, my favorite color, and seeing the colorful flowers all around my veggies is so nice!

My mom has put together a garden of her own, consisting mainly of herbs. I'm not sure of everything she's growing, but I do know we have cilantro, parsley, basil and dill. We also have a lovely rhubarb growing, and tons of flowers. We have everything from lilacs to columbines, fuschias to verbena daisies. Love them all!

The back deck has become home to an assortment of potted flowers and a bed of lettuce. (Yes, I wrote lettuce!) So, all in all, not a bad haul. I love going out there with a book and just sitting with the flowers, basking in all the reds, yellows and purples we have growing everywhere. Few things in this life make me happy as healthy, magnificent plants.

Yesterday afternoon, I was sitting on the back deck with my mother. I don't remember everything we were chatting about -- she was probably nagging me to do some errand or chore that I've typically left undone for the past month. (Does it qualify as nagging if it's taken me so long to do? Hmm ...) At any rate, seeing how pretty the yard looked with all the flowers, I told my mom about my fond memories of my time at the Brisbane Botanical Gardens last summer in Australia. The flowers there were magnificent.

Later on, my mom came home with a box full of one of the types of flowers I saw in Australia. I'll have to look up the name of them. But oh, I was so happy! I am planning on planting them today, somewhere sunny and warm where everyone driving by will see them.

In other news, I've been performing a fair bit and teaching a little. I've put together a nice quartet, and we play a wide variety of music. We cover everything from classical (Schubert, Satie) to oldies (Sinatra, The Beatles) to the strange and unusual (Stravinsky, Star Trek) to everything in between! I'm also performing with the very talented Mark Woodyatt, a violinist and mandolin player. I think he's my favorite person in the world to perform with, even though we argue like cats and dogs during rehearsals!

I'm considering getting a cruise ship job or similar work this autumn, and just cruising around and getting paid to play until I go off to grad school. The money is very good on cruise ships, and it's a good way to travel for free ... not to mention, it's the perfect way to force myself to practice every day!!

Now off to dream of the South Pacific as I read my way through a Paul Theroux travelogue and try to avoid doing too much work -- this weather makes me lazy, content and at peace.

photo: springtime

april showers bring may flowers.
taken on my cell phone camera.

kind of a cute post

City Related Bits & Pieces:

You must check out tweenbots. "Human-dependant robots" that "navigate the city with the help of pedestrians," these little guys have renewed my faith in humanity. Well, okay, I wouldn't go that far, but let's just put it this way -- New Yorkers are way nicer than may initially appear. This website proves what I've been telling people for years.

Then, visit this wonderful short video to hear some New Yorkers tell their tales. The video features talking suitcases, telephones and newspaper boxes. It all works for an incredibly cute look at life in the big NYC. Check it out and see what I mean.

Then, to finish off today's post of cute and kind-of-cute things in NYC, this fake subway advisory is pretty funny ... if you've lived in NYC, that is. Not cute, but still made me laugh.

southern special

Spring has sprung!

Well, not exactly. Alas, my dearest wish may be for warmth and sunshine, but right now, the weather is being quite uncooperative. There are fat flakes of snow falling down and past my window, dribbling from the sky like some sort of seasonal baby drool. The sky is overcast, and there's certainly no sunshine to be seen for miles. Perhaps the saddest thing are the flowers -- any plants that decided to bloom are probably regretting any hastily made decisions.

However, I can keep telling myself spring has sprung for the very reason that it has ... in other parts of the country, anyway. While I may be geographically deprived and forced to reside in the land of snow, at least I can cheer myself up with the glowing fact that it is very warm and very sunny in some part of the USA right now.


For almost the entire first week of April I was in one of the more balmy regions of the country. I spent five days in warm and lovely North Carolina, a state very dear to me and a place I was very happy to pass some time in.


I was there to present a lecture at an academic conference being held at one of the University of North Carolina schools. It was a very big opportunity for me to showcase my research and start making a name for myself in the scholarly community. Luckily, everything went smoothly and my presentation was well received.


I was very nervous about presenting in front of an audience who were largely more educated and better known than me; I was the only person to present without a PhD or a fat stack of dissertation notes. Some of the lecturers were from institutions such as Harvard, while others were affiliated with other top name schools, like UNC Chapel Hill. (By the way: YEAH TARHEELS!!!!!!!!!!) So the credentials of the various conference speakers were intimidating enough, without bringing up the question of how in the hell did I get picked to speak when I'm not even in a graduate program yet? But then again, my research is solid, I speak well, and I'm not going to question fate when it has been kind to me.

While I was very thrilled with the reception of my lecture, and happy to have met so many interesting and educated people, the conference was only a part of my high spirits. Just being home, in a state I know well and love, was a good enough feeling to literally put some pep in my step. (I can't believe I just used the world's most cliched phrase. But it works. So go with it.) The weather was bright, sunny and almost 80 degrees on a daily basis. I actually got a tan just walking outside.

Knowing the particular corner of the state I was in quite well, I had some must-dos to cross off on my While-In-NC list. One was eating at a childhood favorite of mine, Smithfield BBQ. You have not tasted heaven until you have eaten the bbq here, tasted their sweet tea, and indulged in enough hush puppies to sink a freighter. I literally demanded that my friend drive there, even though it was out of our way. Luckily, my friend gamely followed my sort-of-lame directions, and ended up loving the fried shrimp at Smithfield BBQ. I ate the regular bbq platter and it was truly fried, dripping, steaming perfection.

And let me just tell you this: it was every bit as good as I remembered. Maybe even better. How rarely that happens, and how nice when it does.

I also had to eat some other southern staples in NC that are hard to find up north. So, I managed to gobble up some required foods that I love and never get to eat:
fried okra, collard greens and pork + hot sauce, green beans and salted pork, fried chicken and gallons upon gallons of sweet tea.

I did have one grand disappointment. I wanted to stop off at a Chick-Fil-A before I left for the frozen tundra of the north. However, I forgot that the chain is always closed on Sundays -- and had designated Sunday as my day to go eatat Chik-Fil-A. So, major bummer, I did not get the tasty fried golden nuggets of goodness and waffle fries that I so dearly love. I survived the depression that followed, but my stomach and taste buds were angry with me for the entire rest of the day. A golden opportunity missed, simply because I forgot southern fast food chains do things like close on Sundays. Oops.
All this discussion of food has made me hungry. I just peeked outside of my bedroom window in order to distract myself from my growling stomach. It looks like the snow has stopped. I'm sure it's still bitter cold outside, and the sun hasn't shown itself today, but still ... I keep thinking that Spring has sprung.

Here's hoping that it actually has ... and that PA will get a nice place to eat Carolina style BBQ. And a Chick-Fil-A.

squeaking weeds

It's been a long time.

Spring is ever-so-slightly in the air. There's a suggestion of warmer days to come, of longer and sunnier afternoons. Little seedlings are starting to poke their heads out of the soil, and flocks of geese are flying overhead. Life feels hopeful, happy, optimistic.

The trees are still stripped of their leaves; however, their bare branches don't seem so skeletal anymore. They have somehow filled out, plumper and stouter than usual. Flowers are beginning to warm up to the idea of budding. Squirrels are running around like mad, making chattering noises and crunching twigs under their tiny feet. Kids are back outside, yelling and screaming in the delight of playing tag. Trees may still be leafless, but there is no doubt a new season is about to enter in from the wings.

The coming spring has prompted me to get back outdoors and begin playing in the sun again. I'm in the early stages of clearing land for a soon-to-be organic vegetable garden. My earlier efforts at fire escape gardening have evolved into something a lot larger and dirtier. (Literally: soil gets on everything.)

I was outside earlier today, raking out debris and turning over soil to scoop up weeds and grass. There was a layer of frost still, just under the soil, a sort of cobwebby-but-crunchy white crust enshrouding the underskin of the earth. Little budlets were precariously stretching out their roots, despite the frost. It was very sweet and sad at the same time, seeing how fragile life really is.

Because it was cold out (and also because having dirt under your nails sucks), I had on a pair of latex gloves. I felt a little stupid, out there in the dirt with a pair of doctor's gloves on, but I couldn't find any other pair. My mom supposedly has a pair around somewhere, but I still haven't found them. Anyway, the latex gloves were better than nothing. They kept the dirt off my fingers, but didn't block out the freezing cold air.

The significance of the gloves is that they kept squeaking. At first, I thought the weeds that were being pulled up were making noises. I'd never heard of plants squeaking when you lifted them out of the ground by their roots, but then again, I'd never heard that plants didn't make sound, either.I shrugged off the noises and figured it had to be due to the cold. Perhaps they were still frozen, and this made them sound like a rusty hinge for some reason. Every time a plant seemed to squeak, however, it felt like a protest. I began to feel terribly guilty pulling up all those weeds. They were squeaking at me like a band of angry squirrels, and I couldn't help but feel a little berated.

Eventually I realized it was my gloves that were squeaking, and not, in fact, talkative rooted lifeforms.

Needless to say, this made me very relieved.

i like ...

Every now and then some sweeping fad hits the internet. I, ever quick to jump on the Useless-Crap-That's-Fun-Anyway bandwagon, have become rather fond the latest, most ridiculous cyber novelty.

It's called 'Cornify' and all it does is add sparkly unicorns, rainbows and glitter to otherwise boring and plain websites. Basically, it's the fantasy of an eight year and a queeny gay man all mixed up into one little internet package.


Try it out by clicking on the cornify button below:






Remember, the more times you click, the cornier this webspace will get.

a new york pictorial

Two days ago, on the New York Times website, an interesting piece ran that truly summarized life in the Big Apple. With a series of poignant images, Christoph Niemann boiled down the essence of what it means to be a New Yorker.

I was completely charmed, and I think you might be too if you take a look.

Here is a link to the article: http://niemann.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/02/02/i-lego-ny/

appendix in revolt

I do not recommend having a medical emergency.

At all.

It should be pretty obvious why I feel this way. There's the whole pain factor. The expense. The stress, time and worry. The fear. And, of course, the not-so-minor issue of spending time in the hospital.

Not good things.

The reason I bring this topic up is because I had a medical malady of my own last week. And yes, it involved great expense, time, pain and, of course, worry.

It all began last Tuesday evening. I had been fine all day, but shortly after dinner, I found myself with a belly full of fire. Literally. A raging and internal fire. The area around my belly button was burning so badly that I eventually had to curl up in a fetal position. It was the absolute worst pain I've ever experienced, and very similar to the torturous feeling I had felt previously before heading over to the Emergency Room. (I've had two previous visits with the same symptoms.)

Then I started throwing up.

And I didn't stop.

And then there started to be a little blood in the vomit, and I couldn't take the pain anymore ...

anyway, enough of the gory details. Let's just say I wound up in the hospital, and the doctors there decided to keep me overnight. The very next morning, at 6am, a surgeon strolled in to my semi-private hospital room to politely inform me I was lined up for surgery ASAP. In fact, would I be willing to go under the knife that very morning?

To make a long story short, my appendix was removed. (Thanks a lot, appendix, for malfunctioning and causing me a lot of grief. I'm glad we got a divorce.)

Three ugly incisions later, some more time spent in the hospital, and after enough morphine to knock out a horse, I was discharged and shipped home.

Which is where I have been ever since, recovering from the very uncomfortable feeling of having had my belly region sliced up three times and pumped full of air.

Not good things.

I've finally started feeling well enough to start complaining and getting irritable, which means I must be on the mend. While lounging all day in bed does have its benefits, they are largely outweighed by the pain factor and the fact that I don't have a choice in the matter -- I have to be doing this.

So, anyway. That's the latest news in my life. I do have a big piece of info about my academic career, but I'll save that for another post. It's worthy of its own blog entry.

Be well, and don't explode your appendix if you can at all avoid it.

a minor complaint

I guess that

this

is what it means to be 'grown up',

to

always feel a little alone,

that

no one else can save you or clean up your messes.

To be an adult

is

to shoulder the burden of a thousand responsibilities

and to

feel guilty when you're having too much fun.

***

Question: Is this how it's always going to be?

Answer: I want my childhood back.

matrix kitten

Few things in life are better than:

A kitten & puppies play fighting to the sounds of 'The Matrix' soundtrack:




or

baby meerkats coming out of their burrows for the first time:

go here to see!

dead bird

What a sad little thing you are, your wings clipped with ice and your legs sticking straight up and towards the sky. Your unmoving eyes are frozen shut, cold and unseeing in the swirl of the snowy winter air.

What a pathetic, hopeless sight you make. A tiny little creature, plump bellied and stiff legged, exposed and prone. You rest there on your final perch, flipped over on your back, mute and deaf.

It is a sad thing to see how dejected a creature looks when it has frozen to death.

Looking at you, I can see first hand how cruel winter really is, how difficult it is to manage the long and merciless nights. How hard it is to make ends meet, to find a warm place to nest for the coldest hours. And God knows, that in this weather, these past few evenings of temperatures in the range of ten below zero, staying alive is not an adequate word. 'Survival' is.

Survival. What a wretched word, but a glorious one, too. The difficulties, the pain and the suffering, the amazing highs and the bitter lows; this is to survive and be an adult.

It's a human problem, shrunk down and molded to the animal condition. Encapsulated in the form of a tiny finch, a sad, pathetic, and very dead little bird.

You, little creature, are my frozen metaphor for the harsh realities of winter.

arovane vs sufjan stevens

The Aussie blog has been updated. Go take a lookey if you're interested.

It's funny how the New Year has been stirring up travel lust in me. The urge to get up and just go somewhere has been overwhelming lately. I find myself watching the travel channel and reading travel memoirs in large quantities lately. (I normally never watch television.) I keep checking travel websites obsessively, looking for an affordable vacation to go on. I don't know what it is, but ever since Australia, traveling has gotten under my skin. When can I get up and go again?!

Speaking of travel, I watched a comedy the other night (thank you, Netflix) that was a very accurate take on culture shock in India. The film is called 'Outsourced' and had some very realistic depictions of everyday urban life in India. I loved it. It reminded me of my travels in that beautiful country, and all the funny mishaps I had as an American. Everything from going to the toilet (oh my god, it's just a hole in the ground!) to being followed by curious Indians was covered. I chuckled and even laughed at parts, because it reminded me so much of my own travels.

Which, by the way, is wonderful. Culture shock is invigorating. I mean, after you get over the 'dear mother of God, what is going ON?!' aspect of it. I don't think I've actually had true chill-me-to-my-bones culture shock, but the first time you squat over a dirty and dismal hole in the ground to go to the bathroom with no toilet paper, you start to respect the term 'cultural values.'

In other news, I've been listening to a lot of music lately ... of course. I guess it's part of my job description as a musician. I've been re-discovering old Cd's of mine. 'Atol Scrap' by Arovane has been dusted off and put on constant repeat. You need a good sound system for it, but what a sophisticated, genuine example of electronic music. I also listened to that oldie by Sufjan Stevens, 'Enjoy Your Rabbit'. That recording is a prime example of folksy electronic. I'm not sure there's any other way to describe it. It's vintage Sufjan, before he ever became the Mr. Stevens. It's not sophisticated the way 'Atol Scrap' is, but for an old recording (2001) it's surprisingly well done.

On the same topic ... would anyone else agree that Michael Jackson started going downhill during the 'Bad' years? 'Thriller' and 'Off the Wall' are such classic gold standards of Quincy Jones production, but then 'Bad', another Jones produced album, sort of slacks off. I was disappointed while re-listening to that record.

So, I think that's all there is to report for now. I mean, obviously there's more going on in my life than Michael Jackson and 'Outsourced', but I never feel comfortable posting about overly personal things online. So, I feed you the scraps of my life instead. :)

Have a safe and happy weekend.

new years eve messsage

Hey.

It's almost the New Year. The New Year and the new year. (One is the holiday, the other is a new chapter in time.) It's the end of some things and the beginning of others; a time of change and flux.

I feel like some good things will be coming my way in '09. I'm not sure what, and I can't predict where I'll end up or what will change (or stay the same), but I can feel it in my bones. '09 is going to bring something very positive and big in my life.

Stay tuned, I guess.

I truly hope that everyone who reads this has a happy, healthy and peaceful '09.

Lots of love.

winter wind

Do you ever feel as if cold is alive?

I mean a literal, creeping, breathing life force. One that has free will and can choose to nibble off your fingers in a fit of frost bite, or decide to simply pass you by, unscathed and unharmed.

I ask this question because, lately, I've been feeling as if the winter chill has some kind of intelligence. Some kind of internal brain with firing neurons and intelligent capabilities.

I know it seems silly, but if you've spent enough time in cold places, you might understand. The bitter wind is smart. It can find every crevice, every nook of your body that thermal fleece and jackets don't cover up. It can claw its way in to your clothing, curling icy fingers around your throat and limbs with uncanny ease. It can decide to blow at the most inopportune times, like when you're unloading groceries or trying to start a malfunctioning car.

I swear I've seen the winter air decide to bother someone. Knock someone over. Pull off a person's hat. Make them yelp in sheer frozen agony. Mischevious, often unkind things, just because it can.

Then again, the winter cold has some lovely aspects, as well. Those crystal clear nights, for example, when you can see all around you for miles. Or how pure and clear sound is, when carried on icy, still air. Even the way one's breath curls out like tendrils of smoke when words are spoken in the freezing daytime ether -- I love all of these things.

But yes, I still believe the winter wind is alive. It has a mind of its own.

It wants to eat you alive, but desires to play with you a little first.

Merry Christmas & Happy Hanukah!

(It is a lucky person who can celebrate both!)

Enjoy the Jewish Festival of Lights and Christmas Cheer with these crazy youtube videos I found.

Enjoy.

updates and wanderlust

The Australian blog has been updated. Please go check it out. I'm about to do an entry on a remote alpine lake I found, but I won't reveal anything further until the blog post is actually up. Until then, go read about Toowomba and Spring Bluff, two very different but equally lovely spots in Queensland.

In the meantime, here I am at home, on my one day off this week. It's not even really a good day off, since I have a lot of work I need to do. What good is a vacation day if all you have to get done are chores? Despite this rather nasty fact, I am determined to make the most of my time away from working by lounging in bed as long as possible, updating my blog, and enjoying the fact I can stay inside, where it's warm.

Part of the appeal of staying in bed is the fact I have a fun book to read. 'The Sex Life of Cannibals' (which isn't nearly as erotic as it sounds) is about a young couple who move to a remote South Pacific island located on the equator. I'm having a blast reading about their misadventures dealing with the natives, and just how difficult life on a atoll can be. It is also making me desperate to travel again. I'm now having visions of being lulled to sleep in a hammock strung up between two palm trees, the sounds of the Pacific Ocean singing me to sleep.

When I think about travel, I inevitably make lists. I love lists anyway, but something about traveling makes me want to create long, elaborate catalogues of where I want to go and why. The South Pacific has now been added to that list -- and the more remote, the better.

Top contenders on my travel list include Mongolia, Spain, Russia, Japan, Solomon Islands (or some place similar), Cuba, Argentina or Chile, South Africa, Morocco, Bhutan and New Zealand. I'm pretty sure I'll manage to reach most of those places, given enough time and funds.

And let me say this, because people inevitably react strangely when I say I want to visit Mongolia: I almost went there last summer. I have plans on going as soon as I can. Just go rent 'Mongol' and you'll understand my fascination.

Anyway. I'm going to rest on my laurels a bit longer and then dive in to some much needed work.

i love ... my nintendo 64

i love this machine.

Dear Nintendo 64,

I love you. Yes, I really do. I love you despite all your flaws. The blocky, awkward animation you so commonly feature in your games, the laughable early 90's soundtracks that you so commonly utilize, even the completely unrealistic and often unreliable game play -- I embrace everything about you.

True, you're out of date. You're what one might refer to as 'horribly antiquated'. They don't even make your system anymore. You're like some kind of technological dinosaur. A buggy, funny, yet impossible to hate dinosaur.

Why am I so fond of you? That's easy. It's because you provide me with hours of entertainment. Well, and there's other reasons too. For one, there's nothing like plopping down in a chair after a long day and starting in to a death match round of 'Killer Instinct Gold'. Because chasing a yellow ball around on 'Mario Tennis' is oddly soothing. Because the scantily clad male characters in 'WCW vs. NWO World Tour' are cause for a good laugh or two. Because it's fun to race cars around in 'Wipeout' and then pretend to cry when you lose a race.

battling it out, Killer Instinct style

You're a very unassuming piece of equipment. I mean, you don't have any fancy bells or whistles; you don't require much in terms of tender loving care. You can't go online, you can't play DVDs or CDs, and you only support N64 games. You aren't exactly the pinnacle of game play achievement.

Despite this (or perhaps because of it), you're simple to use. Your only requirements are that games aren't jammed in to your console, and that the dust gets blown out of the cartridges every once in awhile. Sure, you can be fritzy and not work, but then again, none of us work correctly after a certain age. And you, ... well. You're a senior citizen in computer years. If you were a human, you'd qualify for the Denny's Senior Discount. It's great you can even function at all.

unintentional humor

But no matter your age or the ridiculous nature of your games, I will always love you. You are the one game system I have remained loyal to, and the one that I will probably always have ... until you break, anyway.

Lots of love,

Me

i like ... the fall

Over the span of the past 24 hours, I've slowly been absorbing the beautiful film 'The Fall', directed by Tarsem Singh. This movie is an absolute gem, with stunning visuals, a fantastical plotline, and a wonderful lead actress. Heavily stylized, and portrayed from a child's point of view, the film is, in my opinion, quite exceptional.

There are faults with the movie, of course. The acting comes across as stilted at times, there are long sequences where nothing makes sense, and sometimes it is hard to understand the accents of some of the actors in the film. However, these flaws are minor in comparison with the absolute visual feast that this movie provides.

Take this sequence for example, of a bandit riding a swimming elephant:

It's completely surreal, beautiful, and, dare I say it (?!), magical. Moments like these fill up the movie, and that's why I love it so much. Tarsem has managed to portray on celluloid what I always dreamed of as a young girl.

Here's the officail film trailer, which does not really do the movie justice, in my opinion. However, it does hint at some of the epic scenes to be found in 'The Fall'. The director of photography in this movie deserves some sort of medal, in my opinion. Every shot could stand alone as a photograph.

And, lastly, here's a clip from the start of the movie, when the adventure begins. It's not a spoiler, so you can watch this without getting any vital information revealed about the plotline. I'm really just posting it so you can see how starkly gorgeous the visuals are in this film -- and this isn't even the half of it! Wait until the film takes place in India ... oh, gorgeous! The best part is, I've been to some of the locations that are in the movie, including the Taj Mahal, Agra Fort, Paris, and Prague. It's like a visual guide to some of the world's most beautiful sights.

black friday makes my soul poop brown

Happy Post-Thanksgiving, ya'll! Hope your big day of eating was a cheery one. Turkey day is really kind of a bird holocaust sanctioned by American tradition, but I love the holiday anyway. I guess there's just something about having an excuse to stuff face with food that I really appreciate.

My Thanksgiving was a quiet one. This was mainly due to the fact I had to be at work at 5:30am this morning for the horror that is known as Black Friday. Waking up at 4:45am is not exactly my thing, and I had to be sure to go to bed extra early last night in order to wake up in time.

Of course, I wasn't able to get a good evening's rest at all. I'm allergic to a bed time. As soon as I tell my body that it must be asleep by a certain time, it goes and does the opposite. My mind goes in to Super Mega Thinking Concentration Mode. It's really not as productive as it sounds, either.

Seriously, my body and brain hold a conversation that goes something like this:

2 HOURS BEFORE BEDTIME
Body: I need you fast asleep by 10:30pm AT THE LATEST. Okay?
Brain: Sure, sure. 10:30pm. Gotcha.

BEDTIME
Body: Okay. Sleepy time. Ya ready?
Brain: *suddenly clicks on after being shut down all day* No. Actually, I just came up with 50 new things to stress and worry about.
Body: But ... I need to sleep.
Brain: Well, too bad.

2 HOURS AFTER BEDTIME
Body: Why am I still awake?
Brain: Because I hate you.

And that, folks, sums up my life.

In other news, I'm working a new part time retail position. I can't say I love it, especially during weekends like this. The store is always crowded, it's stifling hot, I stand on my feet all day, and I have to be nice to everyone no matter what. The latter is what especially drives me crazy -- I won't even type some of the things I've silently said in my head to a few choice jerks who've stepped foot in to my store. I smile and perkily tell everyone to have a great day, but in my brain I might be thinking something quite the opposite.

Then there are days like this one, where I have to haul around a giant bag on the sales floor and pitch it to people. Mind you, these are busy, harassed shoppers who don't want to hear about a bunch of expensive goodies. They'd rather me just shut up and tell them how to get to the exit without getting trampled to death. But nope, I have to sell away, lugging around a heavy bag, showing off its contents like its Blackbeard's pirate booty itself.

(Is this going to get me fired? Oh well.)

Then, of course, there are my co-workers. Some of them are genuinely nice people, but some of them are almost young enough to be my children. (Weird feeling.) I have nothing in common with these people. They worry about boys and freshmen-year-in-college types of things. I worry about graduate school applications and making beautiful music. We speak foreign languages, me and them. But we stand united, under the common goal of earning a shitty paycheck.

Such is life.

Hopefully tonight I will get a good night's rest. I have a long day ahead of me Saturday: a day of work and then several hours of practice/rehearsal afterwards. Here's hoping my brain will actually cut me a break tonight, and let me sleep for once!

vonnegut lends a literary helping hand

I've been reading Kurt Vonnegut's 'Mother Night' and, of course, loving it. Vonnegut has ranked as among my favorite writers for many years. The way he plays with words is so entertaining yet, at times, profound. His biting wit is mixed with a sort of jovial irony, which makes for a very interesting take on the world. Naturally, I can't help but admire the man's writing.

It's a well known fact to my friends and family that Vonnegut stands as a member of my Holy Trinity of Authors, the other two being Flannery O'Connor and Henry Miller. But where O'Connor has a morbid, almost claustrophobic tendency in her work, Vonnegut is the opposite -- free, open, expansive. Henry Miller may be a genius, (and make no mistake, he most certainly is), but he is so caustic at times that it makes one flinch when reading his material. Vonnegut never hurts me to read. He only makes me laugh and self reflect.

That said, I loved a few of the following passages from the novel 'Mother Night' and wanted to share them. They're classic Vonnegut: philosophical, but deceptively simple.

The first is a description of New York City, which I absolutely adore:

" ... And I left the seashell roar and the aurora borealis of the city's heart farther and farther behind me" (Vonnegut, 176)

Oh, how lovely! How true, even. The seashell roar -- the distant muffled sounds of the oceanic movement of honking cars and swerving delivery trucks -- mingled with the bright lights and pulsing neon signs that cast an aurora borealis over Times Square.

Love it.

Vonnegut, who was himself a World War II veteran, often deals with war and inhumanity in his writing as well. This next passage I selected because it sums up a personal philosophy of my own, and I was glad to see it echoed in the writing of a man who's reputation far exceeds my own:

" 'There are plenty of reasons for fighting,' I said, 'but no good reason ever to hate without reservation, to imagine that God Almighty Himself hates with you, too. Where's evil? It's that large part of every man that wants to hate without limit, that wants to hate with God on its side. It's that part of every man that finds all kinds of ugliness so attractive.'
'It's that part of an imbecile,' I said, 'that punishes and villifies and makes war gladly.' " (Vonnegut, 190)

This, to me, applies to world events right now. Taliban fighters, are you listening? Zealous evangelists, are you listening? Read some Vonnegut.

Lastly, this little truth from Vonnegut, which comes from the mouth of his narrator, Howard W. Campbell, Jr:

"This is the only story of mine whose moral I know. I don't think it's a marvelous moral; I simply happen to know what it is: We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be." (Vonnegut, v)

Seems straight forward, right? But oh, how it applies to so many people I've known in my life. Myself, even.

I'll end the post on that final literary note.

Happy Pre-Thanksgiving, and may you find a good Vonnegut book to read during your holiday.

meow

This short video completely made my otherwise lame and freezing cold day:

letting go

Rainy days always bring out the melancholy in me. It's not a bad thing, it just is what it is. To me, rain signifies contemplation and reflection. Well, that and snuggling up in bed with a good book.

Lately I've been learning the lesson of Letting Go. It's not something I'm good at, or have been very prone to do in my life. I'll stay friends with people I don't even like that much, simply because it's too difficult to kick them to the curb. I've certainly let guys overstay their welcome in relationships, simply because I hate being the one to do the dumping. I've even clung to half baked plans and dreams for too long, and why? Because letting go is hard to do.

There are people and things in life worth holding on to. I believe this with a passion. I've fought a few hard and long battles in my life over certain people and things that I have truly belived in.

However, there are many other people and things that aren't worth the fight. Sometimes it's better just to let them go, as nicely as possible, and wish them well in life. It completely sucks, and it inevitably ends up hurting someone in the equation, but well ... I think that holding on to something old and broken is probably worse in the long run.

I've been learning a lot about letting go lately. It's a hard thing to accept. But it's time, and I'm absorbing the lesson as gracefully and maturely as possible.

a friday night drag show

Well, in anti-celebration of the idiots in California who decided that sexuality should determine one's ability to marry, I decided to attend a drag show.

I've been to a few in New York City, but this was my first small town experience with one. Let's just say it was a low rent version of what a drag show should be. However, for all the camp and silliness (and lack of stilettos), there was something completely charming about the overweight, pink bewigged mommas flashing their gams on stage.

First of all, it was a Patsy Cline tribute night. I had no idea the famed country singer was a gay icon, but apparently she is. (News to me!) I was thrilled about this fact, until two songs in to the show, the Patsy Cline lip synching came to an abrupt end and was replaced by decidedly non-country tunes such as 'Everybody Dance Now' and 'Sweet Dreams Are Made of This.'

I was none too impressed with the actual drag queens themselves (more like draggled queens), but I had a blast dancing along to the music, cheering the ladies on in their moment of glory, and admiring the sheer amount of glitter that coated the hair, face and body of one particular high heeled man-lady.

The best part of the evening, however, had nothing to do with the ladies themselves. It was the fact that were straight women, gay women, straight men and gay men all mingling together in support of a decidedly alternative cause. Also, the appletini shots and $4 cranberry and vodkas weren't a bad deal either. (Perhaps a little more off putting was the young fellow walking around in tight black underwear who was serving the above mentioned appletini shots.)

I'm not planning on going back anytime soon, but I certainly had a blast on the dance floor after the drag show. I was also very glad to see that the passing of Proposition 8 hadn't dapened anyone's spirits too much. Perhaps no one cared, but more likely, everyone just decided to say screw it, we're still going to live our lives!

I'm including some pictures of the evening, although they're low quality, very blurry cell phone shots. They gave the general impression of the evening, however. Enjoy, and yes, I promise to stop politicizing after this post!

congratulations

Congratulations to Barack Obama for his historic victory as PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA!!!

(I finally voted for someone who won an election!)

For the first time in years, I felt proud to be an American last night. The young adults of my generation came together and united under one cause: to make a change in America. We voted, and we did it!

However, I am super bummed to learn that Proposition 8 in California (which is against gay marriage and a strikedown of gay rights) is looking like it will pass. I am not one to politicize; however, since when is equality a privilege, not a right?

Love is love, people, no matter the genitals attached to it.

in which i describe my movie marathon

I trust Halloween treated you all nicely.

I had a good and rather quiet holiday. I had a movie marathon at my friend's house, and then popped back over to my house with two other friends to watch an episode of an old vampire anime series that I own.

The Official Halloween Movie Marathon went as follows:

The Devil's Advocate (creepy thriller involving a law firm -- very Rosemary's Baby meets The Firm or something)

Rob Zombie's Halloween (a take on the classic horror flick; really terrible movie, except for the last 15 minutes or so.)

Seven (seen it a million times, but still a creepfest)

Episode 1 of Hellsing (an entertaining if cheesy Japanese vampire series)

I am going to continue the Halloween movie-a-thon by watching 30 Days of Night and perhaps Poltergeist II. I do love me some horror flicks!!

In other news: I am looking forward to buying discount candy en masse today. That's the one good thing about the start of November -- all the cheap candy just waiting for me to stuff into my face!! November is generally a crappy month, except for Thanksgiving, but at least there is cheap candy to kick off the crapfest with.

I am glad about the candy, but the rest of life in general has me a bit down these days. I'm struggling with finding a job, sorting out graduate school (where to go? what program? who do I talk to? how do I get funding?), dealing with this god awful economy, getting my license and, of course, guys. Men. Oh, how sometimes I loathe thee. The bane of my existence has been the eternal problem: males!

Anyway, I'm not prone to getting overly personal on here, so I'll leave the gory details out. Needless to say, they're not very exciting and only really matter to me anyway. But those problems hurt and frustrate me.

Whelp, that's all. (And yes, I typed 'whelp.' I know what it means. But I'm leaving it anyway.)

If you get a chance, please click on this link: http://goosetopia.myminicity.com/. I'm trying to get my city to grow. Gracias!


Also, the travel blog is getting another update. Go check it out.

happy halloween

Happy Halloween.

For a few days it looked like we'd be having a white Halloween. It snowed a few days back -- and how! -- but it's all melting off the ground now. There are slippery wet puddles everywhere. Sidewalks and parking lots are like swimming pools. Very disconcerting when you don't look and step in one, but I suppose also refreshing. Kind of, anyway.

I'm not entirely sure what my Ghoul Day plans are, but something will come in to fruition. I already did some celebrating at a friend's family party in the Hamptons, so there's no pressing need for me to mark the passing of Halloween this year. I don't feel an urgent rush to run out and catch a concert or dress up with all the other butterfly fairies and angels at a party this year. It's a nice change of pace from how I normally feel, which is pressured in to acknowledging the holiday.

Halloween is my favorite celebration, but more because of the time of year, weather and general campiness of the holiday. I also love the movies and candy associated with Halloween -- horror flicks and candy corn galore!!

So, Happy Halloween. Candy corn it up. And then check out my travel blog, which has been updated yet again.

brooklyn birthday visit

I just got back from an evening/afternoon in Brooklyn. It was so nice to be ... home. There. I typed it. Brooklyn feels like home to me. I just love being there so much, and it was lovely being back in the big city again. I know that I will be moving back there again at some point in the future. (Moving back home -- oh snap!)

I had a lovely birthday celebration with a friend at the esteemed Blue Ribbon Brooklyn. We gorged on shrimp cocktails, New Orleans shrimp, an oyster each (we just wanted to try one), and a nice cocktail. I had salmon for my main course, which was delicious. My friend got the equally delicious catfish.

Then it was off to Bar Reis for some well made drinks in the dimly lit basement and upstairs. (Considerable time was spent there, and we moved spots after a certain point.) The bar was playing great music (until 11pm, anyway), and had a nice, relaxed atmosphere and an appropriately dingy-chique vibe. Props to the bartenders for putting on classic musical gold such as Bill Withers, Aretha Franklin and Donnie Hathaway. You NEVER hear things like that at bars around here. Never.

Oh, Park Slope, how I have missed you!

I finished the evening off with good company, and then woke up late this morning and ate yummy Italian for lunch while watching a John Cusack movie.

Good times.

In other news, I've been listening to these albums, and can't seem to get enough of them for various reasons. They are:

Donuts by J Dilla
23 by Blonde Redhead
Dear Science by TV On The Radio (mixed feelings about this one, but there's still redeeming qualities to it)
Godmusic by Chocolate Genius
Redheaded Stranger by Willie Nelson

Blonde Redhead really has hit home with me lately. There's just something about that band that I really like. I can't pinpoint it, and I can say what I *don't* like, but as for what makes me coming back to listen, I can't really say.

The J Dilla album really gets to me, because it was the last thing he ever created before he died. That knowledge makes for a heavy aural experience.

Oh, and Willie ... I just want to give that man a hug. A big, long and affectionate bear hug. Long live Willie Nelson.

I'm off to go watch another episode of Dexter -- an obsession, by the way, that several of my friends share. I don't feel so alone now.

happy birthday to myself

Happy Birthday to myself.

Admission: I'm scared of getting older.

Admission: I haven't accomplished half the things I would have hoped to by now.

Admission: Sometimes this makes me feel like a bad person.

Admission: Yet, somehow, I'm excited I left so many possibilities open for myself.

It's all been about exploring thus far, and now it's going to be about reaching, reaching, reaching and grabbing what is mine in life.

Kind of cliche, yes, but I think listening to too much Blonde Redhead does that to me. But oh man, I love that group. Even if they make me write cliche, dippy things on my birthday.

Anyway.

Happy Birthday to me!

aussie blog

I've been working slowly but steadily on my Aussie travel blog. So far there are only 3 entries, but more are coming daily.

The address is at: http://cityflipaussiejourney.blogspot.com/

Check it out.

i'm back from australia

My five week adventure across the Pacific has sadly come to a close. I had many wonderful experiences there, met a handful of amazing people, experienced a variety of new things, and even held a koala!

I will be sure to post up blogs about my trip very soon. Plenty of photos will be included too.

It's good to be home, but I miss Australia TERRIBLY.

Keep checking back -- I have plenty of updating to catch you up on!

Until then, take care.

my cat :(

I will post soon, but I'm delayed because my very loved, very special cat is currently at the animal hospital undergoing all sorts of tests and exams. The vet believes he has lung/heart disease and is, in his words, "a very sick kitty."

Well, that makes me a very sad kitty mom.

My cat has lost a ton of weight, wheezes/has lung congestion, and bronchial problems, not to mention he's off his feed and very lethargic.

I'm feeling terrible about this, as I'm going on an international 5 week trip in a manner of days. I can't cancel the trip, but I feel terrible for my boy and am really hoping he'll pull through.

Keep your fingers crossed.

I'll post more about the train adventure in the next entry.

the great train adventure, part I

Finally. As promised ages ago, I am posting the pictures and memories from my first (and possibly only) Great Train Adventure. I've been meaning to share this story for a long time, but I've been putting off posting about it for weeks. I think you guys will forgive me, however, given all that has happened over the past few weeks. (Near death experiences, spending copious amounts of time in a hospital, getting performances, gigs and rehearsals together, visiting NYC way too much ....)

With that little introduction aside, let me set the stage for the Great Adventure.

First of all, imagine a lovely little park named Nayaug in the middle of Scranton city limits. This park is quite nice, with a public pool, wildlife center, tree house and plenty of walking trails. It's the sort of place one would go to for a picnic, or a midday snooze, or something of the sort. It's very different than my beloved Prospect Park in Brooklyn, and not nearly as big, but an enjoyable place, all the same.

One of the best parts of the park is that it's very easy to slip off the paths and go wandering over rocks and in to a creek and the like. There's also a railroad line that runs along part of the park -- a perfect place to do some exploring, if one is into trains. (Which, by the way, I totally am.)

(Over to the right of the margin is a pretty terrible cell phone photo of part of the park.)

It was a warm day in early summer when a friend and I decided that it would be a lovely idea to go on a 3 mile walk to downtown Scranton via some back "trails" in Nayaug Park. I was a little apprehensive when my friend mentioned something about 'exploring a train tunnel' and 'walking along the railroad tracks'. He only managed to convince me to go after telling me about how scenic the walk would be. My friend promised all sorts of things, including a waterfall, rock art of Jim Morrison, and lots of flowers and bushes and green things. Being a fan of both Jim Morrison and nature, I was enticed by his descriptions.

And so we set off on our journey. It began innocently enough, with a leisurely walk along one of the paved main trails of Nayaug. This brief little spell soon ended, however, as I followed my friend and cut off the main trail. We made for a small field, which was really more of a paddock than a meadow, minus the required horses and fencing. Littered with debris and covered in flowers, the grassy area made an oddly beautiful scene. Cut glass sparked in the sunlight, while purple flowers bobbed in the breeze. Kind of magical, really.

Eventually a rock wall rose up in front of us. It had two tunnels blasted through it. The tunnel on the right had a railroad line running through it, but the tunnel on the left looked to be unfinished and abandoned, with no train tracks. We picked that one to walk through.











(Above, the tunnel in question. The left hand tunnel we took, and the right hand tunnel is the one with a train parked in front of it.)

The tunnel was cut through living rock, which dripped water on to the gravel floor. It was like the space was sweating and breathing, exhaling and inhaling with our every step. It was also incredibly dark, an overwhelming pitch black that obliterated and eliminated everything from sight.

There are few times in life where I have felt as claustrophobic as I have in that tunnel. The space was large, and the ceiling high, but I could still feel the weight of the earth crushing in on me. It was an awe inspiring and frightening experience, although one I am glad that I had.

After carefully picking our way through the pitch black tunnel, we emerged out the other side and began to walk alongside the railroad tracks. An impossibly long and winding train was parked directly outside one of the tunnels, and looked for all the world like some sort of slumbering and impressively huge beast. I made a joke about it resembling Falcor from the film 'The Never Ending Story', simply because it was so long, skinny and white. (Hey, and there is Falcor in his cinematic glory, to the right.)

We spent some time walking along the train and marveling at all the flowers growing alongside the track. It truly was beautiful here, with all sorts of colorful blooms and waving grasses dancing in the sunlight.

At one point we happened across an almost-ripe patch of raspberries, and of course dove in to pick some -- until we realized that ouch!! Raspberry bushes have thorns. Still, we picked away, and nearly got sick on the taste of almost-sweet-and-slightly-sour raspberries. The best part was how purple our fingers got from the berry juice, and how it stained our skin.

It was a marvel, really, biting into their juicy skins and getting at their bittersweet interiors. Having spent the past several years living in a city, I had forgotten what it was like to eat food right off the bush. It was a revelation and a reminder of how sweet life outside of the urban sprawl can be.

With our bellies now a little fuller, and our fingers nicely stained, my friend and I decided it would be interesting to climb up on the parked train and see if it was carrying any cargo. (For the record, it wasn't.)

My friend went up the side of the train first. He looked like a monkey as he ascended, and pronounced it a 'very cool view' from the top. Which, by the way, was really high up. I don't think people realize how tall trains are until they're actually standing next to them. They are like dinosaurs! Huge and imposing. Mammoth, really.

After my friend had his fill of climbing around, on, and over the train, I tentatively took hold of the ladder up the side of one of the cars and began to climb. I'm afraid of heights, however, and chickened out half way to the top. Despite my friend's encouragement, which began to border on irritation at my lack of bravery, I opted not to climb all the way up.

I did, however, get under the train and had my friend snap a picture of me trying to look cool. This was my bad ass moment. If I couldn't climb on top of a train, at least I could climb under one. The view was probably a little less inspiring, although no less interesting.

(To the right is what it looks like under a train, minus my grinning face.)

While it was very fun to climb around under a train, it's a really dirty thing to do. Literally. I wound up with grease on my face and all over my fingers and legs. It was really sticky, like black tar, and hard to get off. Also, it smelled bad and gave me a headache. All in all, a very annoying substance. However, getting covered in the gook was a small price to pay for clambering around a train, and anyway, it's always kind of fun to get covered in muck.

I'm stopping at this point because I've had enough typing for the day, and you've probably had enough reading, but I will continue with Part 2 soon. Lots to come -- Jim Morrison (on a rock), some colorful graffiti and a band of cute stray cats that I managed to take photos of. Oh yes, and a tense moment crossing a crevasse will also be described.

Until then ... happy train riding, or however it is you're spending your summer.

scared but now happy

I'm not sure where to begin. I suppose the start is the most logical place, but I'm not even sure when all of this began, or how, or why ...

I don't even know if I can really go in to specifics, because I don't want to embarrass anyone or reveal any information that shouldn't be floating around the internet. At the same time, I want to share a little about what's been happening in my life, and why I've been virtually M.I.A. from this blog for so long.

So, I suppose all I can really write is that I recently had an immediate family member take up residence in the hospital. Roughly 11 days of medication, constant monitoring by doctors and nurses and roughly 264 hours of bed rest,all because of a very serious condition which was life threatening and could have had a tragic outcome.

Luckily, the family member is much improved and now at home. This outcome is exceedingly rare and fortunate, and has made me realize, yet again, that I am blessed.

Beyond blessed.

However, it was a very scary past two weeks, and confronting issues of mortality is never pleasant. Especially for me, since I already have such issues with the topic.

That said, I am grateful, happy and pleased -- all of which are inadequate terms to describe my feelings, but the only words I can think of at the moment -- that everything has turned out alright.

And, to my friend graywayfarer, the train story will be coming soon.

Promise.

on the road again ....

So.

It's that time of year again.

Time to travel.

Like clockwork, my nomadic instincts kick in every summer and I have an overwhelming urge to get out, pack the bags and see something (or somewhere) new.

My tickets are bought, so I can now officially announce my biggest trip yet ...

Australia and New Zealand in '08!!

Yes, you read that correctly.

Australia. As in kangaroos.

New Zealand. As in hobbits and Lord of the Rings.

I am going to both of those places!!

I leave L.A. on August 27, arrive in Australia on August 29 and stay on that lovely continent until October 2. On October 2 I will be flying out to New Zealand, where I will have a whirlwind 4 days before jetting back to the United States.

As most of you know, I loathe flying, so this will be quite the journey for me. I'm taking this trip to confront my fears about death, flying, heights and being alone.

Oh yeah, and I should add ... I'm going by myself.

I am planning on taking an emergency supply of Xanax on the airplane with me for those just-in-case-freak-outs. (Seriously.)

I will of course blog about my adventure and be posting photos as I travel about Queensland and Auckland.

Check back in the next day or so for yet another blog post -- my Train Adventure needs telling, still!

update

If I were a parent and this blog were my child, I'd be reported for neglect. That said, I haven't totally forgotten about this blog -- it's just that life has been keeping me so full (literally, like I'm constantly filled up on a good meal) and busy that having some time to write hasn't been easy.

That said, I do have 1 or 2 things to blog about, including my Most Excellent Train Adventure and my summer trip that I am planning!!!

More details to come. Keep posted, because I will be back in blogging action quite soon.